


Be Careful What You Wish For

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Alternate Universe - Kingdom, Anal Sex, Be Careful What You Wish For, Cursed, Fluff and Smut, Forsaken Kingdom, Genie Eddie, Jeremy is an enemy king, M/M, Magic and Science, Miles is a conspiracy nut, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Slave, Sex for Wishes, Sexual Slavery, Starvation, Trager is still an asshole with blades, Tricksters, War between kingdoms, Waylon must do whatever it takes to save his kingdom, Waylon must face the consequences of his actions, enslavement, prince waylon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-01 06:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12150906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: Once upon a time there was a Kingdom that existed in a lush and wondrous land. It was once a very great and powerful Kingdom with many generations of history under it’s belt. Yet, every great Kingdom must fall and this is the story of one man’s desperate attempt to save his Kingdom and his legacy through very unusual and highly unorthodox means.Prince Waylon must face the obstacles laid before him but a blue eyed stranger suddenly appears amidst the chaos and Waylon's world is completely flipped upside down. This King-To-Be quickly becomes a Servant-In-Waiting forced to tend to his new Master's every beckon call for the sake of the Kingdom.





	1. Welcome to My Life

**Author's Note:**

> This writing prompt was given to me by a friend who wanted to see a Genie AU fic with a forsaken Kingdom. See a whole new side of Waylon like never before as circumstances force the normally gentle male's hand. 
> 
> This is a completely new concept for me so I really hope you guys like this. This chapter is much shorter then my usual fics in the past with these two. Please bare with me as this is only an introduction piece into this new world. 
> 
> Please comment below your thoughts on this fic and let me know how I'm doing so far. Thank you!

Once upon a time there was a Kingdom that existed in a lush and wondrous land. It was once a very great and powerful Kingdom with many generations of history under it’s belt. Yet, every great Kingdom must fall and this is the story of one man’s desperate attempt to save his Kingdom and his legacy through very unusual and highly unorthodox means.

  


Waylon Park was from a very long and prestigious line of royal blood. His father and great grandfather ruled the land and guided their people through continuous prosperity and even rose them back up when the land hit a rough patch. Waylon’s reign was not so lucky. Some would even say it was cursed. Beginning with how Waylon ascended the throne after his Father had met a very untimely and rather profound end via grape lodged in his throat. The man had been amidst a fit of laughter when it had become lodged and soon asphyxiated right there in front of his Queen,  several guards and a servant who tried to help save him but to no avail. After that, the Queen passed after her heart gave out, her grief and despair at the loss of her husband and King was too much for her fragile heart to bare. She died in her sleep and was found by the servants the next morning.

 

Waylon ascended the throne while his people were in chaos and mourning over their losses. The Prince himself was stricken with these losses the hardest and his kind demeanor had become warped by grief. He became cruel and disheartened. He disregarded his people as they cried out for their Prince to guide them. Soon following that summer there came no rain. It was a terrible heat that scorched the earth and dried up the reservoirs. Livestock died of thirst and starvation. His people were going hungry and the wells were emptying out. The harvest was meager, not even enough to last halfway through the Winter and much of the people couldn’t afford the rising prices for goods. On top of that, the surrounding Kingdom’s who had a peace treaty with the previous King revoked their agreement and set forth high demands for sending their own resources to the struggling land. When Waylon refused to agree to the outrageous demands, war broke out and the Kingdom was doomed with an ill fate.

  


With winter steadily approaching and war on their borders, the Kingdom was doomed. They had no resources to be able to back their troops and they were starving quicker than the war could kill them. The people in the Capital were under strict decree to ration and anyone caught taking more than the allotted amount per person was to be executed on sight. No room for trial or imprisonment. In the beginning theft and murder was rampant with the decreased rations but the new decree kept people from acting out lest they be killed. Even the King himself was subject to these rations despite what the people in the Kingdom thought. Assuming Waylon was barricading himself up in his high tower and stuffing his face. Instead he locked himself away in his chambers to get away from the rest of his court. He couldn’t take the barrage of questions and inquiries anymore. The entire kingdom was falling apart and he had his generals beating down his chamber doors, demanding an audience with him.

  


“Leave me be!” Waylon screamed at the elderly men toting scrolls and letters and other itineraries about. Their bearded expressions twisted in disbelief and their leather wrinkled faces contorted into a sneer of displeasure. Muttering in disgust at how the Prince was acting, comparing his actions and failures to the triumphs of the previous King. It made Waylon’s blood boil, more so then this god forsaken heatwave did. He locked the heavy wooden doors and combed his fingers through disheveled sandy blonde locks, drawing them out of his eyes. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple from his forehead as his light blue eyes swept around the room. He was relieved to finally get a moment’s peace alone. Removing the heavy cloak from his shoulders and letting it drop to the ground at his feet without a care. The olive green material easily discarded along with the white satin sash around his waist. Loosening the green tunic to allow air to breath between his chest and the suffocating cotton fabric. The white trousers were stifling as well and he contemplated removing them only to disregard the option.

 

He gave another glance around the room, this one was not his previous abode. This was the King’s chambers which he was pressured into moving into since the Queen’s death. Waylon hadn’t slept in the bed once since then, unable to look at the empty space where his mother had been found on the bed the morning of her passing. He hardly had any time at all to sleep since then. His blue eyes had dark rings underneath them from exhaustion and the forming of worry lines around bloodshot eyes. He breathed a deep sigh and took a single step forward when he heard a knocking at the door. Something inside of Waylon snapped and he grabbed the closest thing he could find and threw it at the large wooden doors. The object being a very delicately made and rather old looking crystal lamp. It was made of a rare form of blue crystal and was a wedding gift from the King to the Queen once long ago. It always rested on the vanity where his mother’s jewelry and other accessories were stored.

 

The blue crystal his the door with an explosion of a very fine sky blue powder that forced Waylon to turn away and cover his mouth. Couching as the dust settled, not expecting the lamp to contain anything at all. He had assumed it was empty and at the time it felt rather light in his grasp. He swatted the air to disperse the powder before turning back to inspect the damage of his actions, already feeling a bit guilty for destroying such a precious antique. His weary eyes widened when they settled on the large silhouette of a man standing amidst the settling dust cloud. He was barefoot with black trousers on and a white sash tied firmly around his waist. His chest was bare exposing well toned musculature that made his already imposing size all the more intimidating. Only hindered by a neat black vest. He had black hair very neatly slicked back, allowing one’s gaze to be focused solely on the pair of striking blue orbs. They were the deepest blue Waylon has ever seen in his entire life. It pulled at an unquenchable thirst that resided deep inside Waylon. One that he wanted to sate right that moment and devour.

 

The prince was too startled by this appearance to make a move or speak and so the stranger took the initiative of breaking the ice first. He stretched his arms up above his head, flexing the muscles along his chest and biceps. Waylon’s eyes drank in the dip of muscle in the stranger’s abdomen and it had him flustered for the first time in a long time, feeling those eyes set on him and knowing the Prince was staring at odd places. “Wonderful darling! Thank you for that. It was quite cramped in there if I do say so myself.” The stranger relaxed back onto the balls of his feet, stepping over the crystal as if it were nothing to him. Waylon was already anticipating a bloody mess in the man’s footprints but there was nothing. Not even tracks of the male’s presence. Which made waylon further question his current state of sanity or lack thereof.

 

“Now then, with that out of the way. Tell me, what is your name?” His voice was a low rumble that sent chills through Waylon’s body. Gooseflesh rushing across his sweat covered body accompanied by a deeper flush as the stranger closed the distance between them without a care for Waylon’s status. This made Waylon wonder if the man even realized where he was or who he was talking to, which of course with the question given, it was obvious he had no idea.

 

“I am Prince Waylon.” His words which were meant to be confident and sharp came out a little too weak as the large male got eye to eye with him. Waylon froze completely still, his mind racing with his hammering heart as he wondered why the heck he hadn’t called the guards on this intruder yet. Even worse, this man was between him and the locked chamber door. He was trapped with this stranger who appeared out of nowhere. It was that reminder that made Waylon start to believe the heat and recent stress and grief was finally getting to him and completely fried his brain.

 

“A Prince you say? Well Darling, I hate to tell you but that title no longer matters. You broke the lamp, yes?” Waylon’s breath caught in his throat as the stranger raised a hand, one of which Waylon noticed had fingerless gloves on. At the snap of a finger, the cloud of blue dust rose from the floor like a miniature sandstorm and swirled up around Waylon like a twister. Waylon held his breath, afraid of being suffocated by the cloud as his body was pulled and pushed around. Like something was grabbing at him. He felt a heavy weight settle around his throat, a cool metal sensation against his neck then the same feeling formed around his ankles and wrists. As the cloud slowed, it pooled into the stranger’s outstretched palm to form a miniature blue crystal bottle. Complete with a stopper and a silver chain from which to hang on. Silver like vines wrapped around the bottle to keep it attached to the chain.

 

When Waylon looked down at the weight he felt on his body, he quickly realized to his horror that cufflinks formed around his limbs complete with a heavy eternity collar at his throat. A silver chain hung from the collar, hanging in the air and resting strewn across the stranger’s palm beside the blue crystal bottle. “This is the consequences for your actions. You must take my place.” The strange raven haired male informed as he looped the necklace around his head and let it rest around his throat, the crystal bottle nestled down against his chest over his sternum. “Oh my, where are my manners. My apologies your highness, My name is Eddie. I am, or well, I _was_ a genie until you freed me. Now you are one too.”


	2. Genie In A Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to stick with the chapter length for now. It's a whole lot easier for me. It may get longer depending on the content and necessity. But for now, it will remain short.
> 
> You know the drill. Comment down below and let me know what you think of this so far.

“A genie?” Waylon blurted in complete disbelief as he pulled on the cufflinks, trying to get them off of his body. Trying to wrap his head around how they even got on him in the first place. Waylon wasn’t gullible enough to believe in monsters and magic. He quickly dismissed these proclamations as wild lunatic ravings and children’s bedtime stories. He didn’t want to believe it, being a man of science. He was afraid to believe that this was even happening. It was more plausible that this was all in his head. That he was either dreaming or suffering from a bad case of heat exhaustion. “Ridiculous!” He growled as he fussed with the cuffs, cursing under his breath as they refused to budge from his wrists. 

 

“Hm, yes. Obviously so unbelieveable.” Eddie rolled his eyes at the Prince’s ravings and denial. He curled his fingers around the silver chain very carefully and gave a firm tug, forcing Waylon to jolt forward. Eddie leaned down to the smaller male so that they were nose to nose. His voice held a predatory curl to it like a tiger crooning over a fallen fawn in the thick of jungle. And that little bambi that was unfortunate enough to gain the beast’s attention was Waylon. Eddie flashed a toothy smile, sharp canines flashed at the Prince and had a bead of sweat trickling down Waylon’s spine. “You are under my control now. Whosoever possesses the Genie’s bottle, commands the Genie within.” To prove his point, Eddie straightened up, permitting slack in the chain as he purred. “Waylon, kneel for your master.” 

 

Waylon rolled his eyes at Eddie’s words, barbed ones of his own were lingering on the tip of his tongue, prepared to launch at the disrespect the man was showing him. Within his own Kingdom no less. Suddenly the collar sent a pulse throughout his body and before he knew it, he dropped to his knees at Eddie’s feet. The raven haired male reached a gloved hand down to caress Waylon’s chin and tilt it up ever so slightly. “What have you done to me?” Waylon demanded. His voice wavered as fear wormed it’s way into the center of his chest and settled like a heavy rock over his heart. Suffocating with panic and tight like a vice was squeezing him inside.

 

“A Genie must obey whatever their Master commands of them. Even if it is not a wish to be granted. Until freed, the Master’s word is law to any Genie.” Eddie explained, holding Waylon’s gaze with idle amusement. He gave a soft laugh and withdrew his hand from the male’s chin only to caress the side of the Prince’s cheek. Trailing calloused fingertips up along his jawbone and carefully tucking a wayward sandy blonde strand of hair back behind Waylon’s ear before completely retracting his touch. “Good boy.” Eddie cooed. 

 

That phrase ceased the pulsating force in Waylon’s body, returning his control over his own limbs. The prince drew his arms back around himself and stared up at the stranger petrified by this display of power.”What do you want with me?” 

 

“I spent the last three centuries locked away in my bottle, obeying the whim of greedy men who make wishes for desires they could accomplish on their own if they ever dare lift a finger for themselves. I devoured their souls not long after and my bottle drifted off to another owner. Finally through sheer luck you my darling have freed me. In doing so, you have trapped yourself to my fate.” A dark laugh rumbled from his chest like thunder which only increased the suffocating vice in Waylon’s chest. “Now it is I who is the Master. I intend to savor every last bit of it.” 

 

Waylon’s breath caught in his throat and his obviously paled before the mercy of this man’s words. There was no scientific explanation as to why waylon no longer had control over himself. He had no way of disproving the hold this man had on him. It was plain to see that now. All Waylon had left to do was find a way to break his hold and resume his freedom. 

 

Amidst his deep thoughts, Eddie gave a light jerk of the chain to gain the Prince’s attention. Seeing as the young man’s gaze had clouded for a moment as if lost in his own mind. “Listen now.” The pulsing wave rippled throughout his body and his head snapped up at the command. His eyes fixed firmly on Eddie and prepared to listen. “Good, now you will continue to play this game of being the Prince but you shall make no decisions whatsoever on your own. Not for yourself or for your Kingdom. All of your choices  _ must  _ be approved by me. You  _ will _ place me within your court as your Royal Advisor. Am I understood?”

 

Waylon nodded quickly to show he was listening and that he had received the command. “You shall address me as Master when in private and when I ask a question you will answer me properly. Now, once again,  _ am I understood _ ?”

 

“Yes Master.” The words were forced from Waylon’s lips and spurred a tight heat twisting up inside him. He felt faint by time Eddie released him from this spell or trance. Whatever that pulsing feeling was. It faded away like ripples on water but the sensations of being bound to the man’s word lingered like a sickness. The weakness of his body was debilitating. 

 

That weakness was something Eddie was far too familiar with from when he first was trapped within the crystal bottle. He noticed Waylon’s pallor but more then that, he notice how wretched the smaller male appeared even before being bound. The dark rings under his bloodshot eyes. His body looked so frail like he hadn’t been eating well. Even his face had taken on the characteristics of malnutrition. The slight dip of his cheeks and the weariness of his features. For a Prince, it was unsightly. As if he was more of a prisoner within his own body then the ruler of a Kingdom. Eddie took a clean stride forward, quickly closing the distance between them once again but this time he didn’t touch the male’s face or tug on the silver chain. He had actually released it from his grasp and instead scooped Waylon up into his arms drawing a surprised and fearful yelp from the smaller male’s lips that was just too delicious not to savor. Like a tiny kitten being picked up by a stranger for the first time. 

 

“Sleep Waylon.” The command came so softly, like a whisper into the Prince’s ear on honeyed lips. The ripples rolled throughout his body, making it feel heavy and soon his eyes slipped shut. His head lolling back against the raven haired male’s shoulder. The rest of him going slack and weak as Eddie gently placed him on the bed with such ease, it was concerning. His hands sliding out from beneath the frail form, reaching one up to caress the dip of cheekbones and the pale flesh. It rose up to sweep the sandy blonde bangs out of his eyes as Eddie gave a deep sigh. His hand trailing down gingerly across the unmoving form.

 

Waylon’s body was far too lightweight for his age and size. Eddie could feel the boniness of Waylon’s body through his tunic and trousers. The sharp jutting points of his hips and  knees. The slender curve of the waist where muscle and flesh should be. Waylon had been suffering from hunger far longer than his own people had been. And unbeknownst to the servants, Waylon had actually been adding his own rations to that of his workers so they could maintain their jobs and their strength. On the outside he seemed very cold or angry because of the new laws and rules put in place, but deep down he did still care for his people. His losses hurt deeper than they could even see and it had gotten to the point that that pain was gaining a physical characteristic of it’s own. The pain of losing both of his parents within a couple months of each other. Of being helpless against the cruelty of nature as it force hundreds to suffer. Of the surrounding lands who promised peace and support yet turned so swiftly on his Kingdom at the first sign of weakness. 

 

Every single person in his Kingdom looked to him to save them but he was not prepared for this. He did not know what to do. If he had agreed to the demands, their economy would have collapsed. They would be in debt to their neighboring Kingdoms and they knew it. They would rise up and demand payment and they would seek that payment in land or what valuables their country had left. He would lose his throne and many of the impoverished subjects would be enslaved by the wealthier class in the other kingdom’s. They would be treated worse than dogs if he submitted to the Kingdom of Murkoff. Their King was a cruel man of his own accord. Many of the court referred to him as The Devil’s King after he sent many of his own soldiers to slaughter just for the amusement of watching them die. Then imprisoned the grieving and irate family members. 

 

Many of Waylon’s subjects have compared him to that merciless King which was heartbreaking after the joy and delight his father had brought to this land and these people. It made him fear for the way he will be seen in future generations. If his rule is in fact as doomed as they all believe. He didn’t want to think that would ever be a possibility come to life. It ripped him up each time he thought about it. What his parents might be thinking, looking down from above, watching their son struggle and screw up repeatedly. He had spent far too many nights of his reign crying himself into a state of catatonic exhaustion. 


	3. Spies and Lies

Waylon had slept for the rest of the day and all night long. It was the most he has slept in a very very long time and it was well deserved. By the next morning he was awoken by the subtle knocking on his chamber door then the soft click of the knob as it swung open ever so slowly. A servant stood in the entryway, head bowed in respect towards the King. Waylon had slowly sat up on the bed, still wearing the same clothes as the day before and his eyes struggled against the heavy determined tendrils of sleep pulling at them. He cleared his throat and motioned for them to come in. Giving a husky “What is it?” as he struggled to remember when he had fallen asleep exactly. He used the balls of his palms to rub at his eyes again then blinked them for good measure before settling his weary blue eyed gaze on the servant.

 

“Pardon for the intrusion your Majesty, but Sir Miles is requesting an audience with you.” The servant, Waylon noticed was a young girl named Lisa. She was about the same age as him with long chestnut hair tied up neatly in a bun. Her warm chocolate eyes were charming and always knew how to make his heart melt. She had a voluptuous form that had the other male servants swooning for her often but she often put them in their place with the first advance.  She was a very strong willed independent girl who took immense pride in her family. Despite being a servant, all of the workers within the kingdom were paid and she was one of the hardest working of them all. Her family owned a small farm outside of the capital and she sent money to them often to help them during the rougher times.

 

“Oh, alright. Send him in.” Waylon sighed, running his fingers through his hair to draw it out of his face when his eyes widened suddenly. Looking intensely at the hand still in front of his face, inspecting his wrists. The silver cufflinks had actually vanished from his wrists and when he moved his legs, tugging lightly on the pant legs to find they had vanished from there as well. He touched at his throat and nothing was there either. A quick troubled glance around the room and he found he was completely alone there.

 

He released a deep sigh just as a brown haired male came bolting into the room with a flurry of movement. The heavy chamber doors thrown wide open with dramatic flair that had Waylon groaning as they slammed shut with a jarring bang. The wispy chocolate locks bouncing around with partial curls at the overly energetic motions. His green eyes fixed on Waylon, lighting up with inspired hyperactivity as he held his arms out in jubilant greeting. “Way Way!” He shouted, his voice far too loud for Waylon’s throbbing head, the onslaught of a growing migraine had nestled itself snug just behind his eyes. Miles was the **only** person in the entire world that could get away with calling him by that name. Which was due to the two of them growing up together since childhood and despite it not being professional or proper etiquette, Miles even does it in front of other high ranking subjects in the court. They all roll their eyes and cringe at the disrespect but Waylon finds it to be comforting. It proved that Miles was always straight with him, never beating around the bush or playing games. Always right to the point. “Wow, you look like shit.” That last statement was more on the side of reserved surprise.

 

“Thanks for that.” Waylon scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he hung his legs over the edge of the bed.

 

“No problem. Anyway, my sources say King Blaire of Murkoff is sending his royal adviser as a show of ‘support’ for the Kingdom of Leadville.” Miles informed him. The Kingdom of Murkoff is the second most powerful Kingdom in the Mount Massive Region. The Kingdom of Leadville was the most powerful Kingdom, or at least it was until the late king died leaving the land to steadily crumble in such terrible conditions.

 

“Why do I feel like this ‘support’ is going to be more like a dagger held at my throat until I decide to submit to his demands?” Waylon asked with a groan.

 

“Because that’s exactly what it is. What are you going to do without a royal adviser? You have too much going on to deal with him directly and you are in no shape to be seen like this.’ Miles informed Waylon, reaching over to clasp a hand over the prince’s shoulder in a friendly gesture of support.

 

“I don-” There came a sudden knocking on the chamber door. It was far too strong and direct to be a servant and not the agitated banging of the generals, causing Waylon _and_ Miles to turn their heads and gawk at the door. “Come in.” The two males exchanged leery glances as they waited for the door to open slowly.

 

A familiar muscular raven haired form stepped through. This time with more proper dress of shoes, black trousers, a white satin sash and white tunic. The fabric stretched across the large built frame and toned flesh which Waylon didn’t think they even had clothing large enough to fit the ex-genie. His black vest was buttoned up neatly and those fingerless gloves remained on large powerful hands as they grasped the doorknob still. The form bowed out of respect as that charming voice dripped with honeyed words, speaking so sweetly and respectfully. The blue eyes rising after a moment as he addressed the King, the deep pools were paired with a softened gaze, pulling at something inside Waylon. “Pardon me for the intrusion your majesty.”

 

“Excuse me but who are you?” It was Miles who spoke first, placing himself between Waylon and the newcomer. Miles made it a point to know every single person who worked here in the kingdom. He was far too paranoid not to and many of the people who worked in close proximity to the Prince, Miles had investigated and interviewed himself to ensure Waylon’s safety.

 

“Oh,my sincerest apologies. I’m the King’s new royal adviser, as of last night. My name is Eddie Gluskin.” The ex-genie introduced himself with a sheepish smile as if being caught by surprise.

 

Miles looked from Eddie, his gaze hard and skeptical before turning it to Waylon, now woven with worry and his brows knitted together. Silently asking for a confirmation which waylon, who was just as surprised and confused himself gave in. His memories of the night before rushing back and the pull of ripples through his body urging thoughts into his mind. Before he could change them, those thoughts became words that tumbled out into the open. “It’s true. As of last night, Sir Eddie is my trusted adviser.”

 

Miles jaw dropped, leaving him to gape at the Prince. He quickly closed it and cleared his throat. Straightening up his posture which did little in reference to Eddie who easily loomed over both men in the room. Miles didn’t seem at all intimidated by the imposing stature of the behemoth of a man. Stepping closer with purposeful strides until they were chest to chest, so to speak. Miles reached about neck height to Eddie, forcing him to crane his head up ever so slightly to meet the larger male’s blue orbs. It was clear in Miles’ protective posture that he did not approve one bit of this man. Giving waylon one last glance back, he gave a half bow, bidding him a good day before slipping past Eddie and out of the chamber.

 

Eddie lingered until Miles was long gone before shutting the chamber door behind him, sliding the lock into place. “Now that he’s gone, how did you sleep darling?” Eddie’s voice took on the more dangerous playful tone, his posture was no longer the respectful sheepish stance he had portrayed before. It was more predatory. The way his shoulders rolled and his strides were powerful and yet graceful at the same time. They didn’t make a lot of noise nor were the clumsy in the slightest. Everything about it made Waylon think of a large beast such as a tiger lurking through the foliage after the scared little fawn.

 

Once again Waylon was trapped, stuck in a locked room with the genie blocking his only way out. The closer Eddie got, the weight on his body returned. The cool metal of an eternity collar fixed around his throat, materializing before him. The cuff links had changed to match the collar, becoming silver bangle bracelets and anklets. Hanging on his frail limbs but never falling off. “Where did you go?”

 

Eddie tsked at the change in subject, looking mildly annoyed at the switch but he let it pass. He stood with half a foot of space between the two of them, reaching up slowly to caress the side of Waylon’s face. “I figured if i were going to play the part of a Royal Adviser, I should look the part. Do you like it? Made it myself.” With Eddie’s answer, Waylon’s eyes turned towards the clothing and he could spot the professional grade stitching that made the tunic. As he thought, there wasn’t anything sizeable enough to fit Eddie and so the ex-genie improvised. The work was amazing. The alterations were almost unrecognizable. It was impressive to say the least but Waylon wasn’t going to make his adoration of the handywork known.

 

“It’s fine.” He huffed, trying to ignore the callused fingers brushing over his cheek, drawing his continuously unruly strands of hair out of his pitiful features.

 

“You’re looking better than before. A bit more rest and you’ll be back to looking like a Prince.” Eddie commented, his blue orbs sharpened to a studious cold gaze. Glossing over every trait and detail of Waylon’s appearance. “Hm, a good thing about being a genie is you no longer need to eat. That’s a plus.” He drew his hand back away from Waylon as he sighed. “While you were sleeping, i took the liberty to brush up on the state of your affairs. Rather poor job if i do say so myself.”

 

Waylon stiffened, his weary features twisting into a look of scorn for the man’s words. “What did you just say? You have no room to talk! You know nothing!”

 

“I know the King and Queen are dead. I know your land is in misery.” Eddie raised a hand back up to Waylon’s face. His movements were slow and carefully thought out. They had a blush of intimacy in the actions as his hand cupped the prince’s chin. His thumb gently stroking his jawline before squeezing tightly for but a moment. Causing Waylon to wince in discomfort and his pale blue orbs to widen in a shock of fear before the grip loosened and resumed the gentle thumb strokes. “And I know it’s no coincidence that your Kingdom has fallen to ruin under your ruling.”


	4. King's Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING VIOLENCE/ABUSE AHEAD
> 
>  
> 
> This was an odd chapter to write. Enjoy.

“What do you mean?” Waylon blurted, his eyes meeting Eddie’s with a hard disbelieving stare. How could this man know anything of what’s going on? Even more so, how could he know something that Miles or himself didn’t know? What was it that Eddie had under his sleeves and why the hell wouldn’t he share this information? It was irritating and had Waylon’s temper rising quickly. “Tell me, now.” He demanded. His harsh Princely tone overtaking the much meeker one he usually carried.

 

“Don’t think for one moment that you can command me to do _anything_ little Prince. You are deeply mistaken.” The large hand had slipped down from Waylon’s jaw to his throat and before he could get another word out, Eddie had a tight hold on his windpipe and Waylon felt the world suddenly flip flop around him. He choked, his fingers grasping onto Eddie’s wrists to try and pry his hands off of him but to no avail. The ex-genie was far stronger than he was. Already Waylon was seeing pops of color in the corners of his vision before it started to leak an inky blackness into the fringes. When his eyes started to roll back was when Eddie finally released him. Watching Waylon dropped to his knees on the floor, one hand cupping his throat where a reddening handprint had formed. One hand supporting his body as he trembled weakly. “Now why don’t we try this again, darling. What is the proper way to ask your Master for something, hm?”

 

“Go to hell.” Waylon cursed, spitting the words out like it was venom on his lips. He wasn’t a very proud Prince. He didn’t place himself as better than others but this man rubbed him the wrong way and ignited a spark in him that he hadn’t felt before. It was something that Waylon wasn’t accustomed to feeling but when turning it on his new advisor, it felt completely right.

 

Eddie’s condescending smile twisted into a grimace of displeasure as he narrowed his eyes, snatching up Waylon by the back of his collar and dragging him back over the floor. Waylon struggled to get his feet underneath him as he was dragged across the floor, cursing and grabbing at the collar that now choked him. “Don’t worry. This won’t kill you. You’ll just pass out.” Eddie growled at the choking sounds that game from Waylon’s throat as the collar dug into his adam’s apple. Waylon felt like his windpipe was being crushed, suffocating him. Eddie let go of the collar only to snatch him up by his bicep, which was more like a chicken wing compared to the Advisor’s larger frame. Hoisting him on his feet long enough to shove him over onto the bed, shoving him face down into it. “Bind.” Eddie spoke coldly as he held the blue crystal in his free hand. The eternity bangles formed chains that slithered out from the circular metal and attached themselves to each post on the bed, forcing Waylon to remain face down. His body spread eagle and perfectly exposed at Eddie’s mercy.

 

He coughed harshly, gasping for air as he felt his throat slowly opening back up. He was stricken with a dizziness that accompanied being choked near to death. His struggles were weak against the chains and he could hear the larger male lurking just beyond his point of vision. “Let’s review the proper way to speak to your Master, shall we? Since it seems you lack an understanding of just how bad a situation you are in.” Eddie placed a hand over Waylon’s head, burying his fingers into his hair gently before curling them tightly into the disheveled locks and drawing his head back. “You do as I say, whenever I say it. You will call me Master and treat me with respect.”

 

He jerked Waylon’s head harshly as he spoke sharply. “Disrespect will be met with punishment.” At that last word, it seemed to trigger the bangles as another chain slithered out of it and formed an almost harness like effect around Waylon’s body. Each one connecting to the other through one continuous chain until it crisscrossed and wrapped around his body. It coiled tightly, squeezing Waylon like a vice in a painful grip then held that hold as the links heated up, burning his skin. Waylon opened his mouth to scream but Eddie spoke coldly. “Silence.” His voice was cut off before it could even come. Nothing but air left his chest, not a single sound leapt from his through. He writhed in silent agony, his body twisting and jerking in the restraints.

 

Rather it was just a few minutes or an entire hour, Waylon couldn’t tell. The pain searing through his body left not a single mark on his skin. But it felt like it was ripping flesh and breaking bone. Tears fell from his eyes before he could stop them, the pain was unbearable, unlike anything he has ever experienced before in his life. Not long after, the darkness returned to the corners of his vision but this time it was allowed to take him completely.

 

How much time had passed was unknown but it was enough for Eddie to cool his temper. Sitting on the edge of the bed as Waylon regained consciousness. The restraints had disappeared and Waylon had free motion of his own body again. Tear stains had dried on his face, forming tight streaks on his skin. His body had been moved, now lying on his side, curled up in the center of the blankets with his head tucked into a pillow. “You know, you cry in your sleep?” Eddie’s words were soft, sympathetic almost but Waylon had a hard time believing them after the cruelty he had experienced from this man. That this man could ever sympathize with him was ridiculous but he didn’t say anything on it. Fearing the larger male’s wrath could strike once again.

 

“I’m sorry. I was out of line earlier.” This time the large male turned his deep blue eyes towards Waylon. Those deep watery pools had been rimmed with red from agitation of some sorts. Eddie gave a shaky breath as he reached out to touch Waylon’s shoulder, maybe as a gesture of apology or reassurance but it never made contact as the raven haired male second guessed the idea and withdrew. Instead running his fingers through his hair to draw the disheveled wayward locks back into a slicked back position atop his head. To look more composed. “You’ve been through a lot. Your Kingdom, it’s being targeted by your enemies. Even before the King passed on.”

 

“What?” This spurred a sound from Waylon’s throat, his voice was hoarse and broken from the earlier abuse to it. He was surprised to find his voice had been restored in the first place. “If- …..” He sighed, curling up a little more on the bed and squeezing his eyes shut. A shudder ran through his body at the thought that his words might incur the larger male’s wrath once more. “If  you know what’s happening, what went wrong, then help me. Please. Help my people. They’re dying out there.”

 

Eddie bit his lip and sighed. “Being a genie, you have no power of free will and you keep no powers for yourself whatsoever. Your very existence hinges on the word of your master.” Eddie gave Waylon a glance, chewing on his bottom lip in a moment of hesitation as if contemplating the situation. “I will help you by using the three wishes for the sake of your people. But first you must do something for me before each wish is made.”

 

“Anything. Please.” Waylon pushed himself up into a seated position on the bed. His eyes wide and eager, his body brimming with anticipation. “I’ll do anything for my Kingdom. It’s my duty.”

 

“Then sleep with me.” Eddie said said bluntly.

 

“What?”


End file.
